Monday, 13 July 2015

Wonder Woman (Adventures of L-Plate Gran)

It is becoming clearer every week that passes that in taking over the care of Little G from You must be mad, I am morphing slowly but inexorably into Wonder Woman. To give you just one example: I spend a lot of time wondering where all the dropped kerbs are.

If you have ever tried pushing a top of the range purple Stokke buggy with wheels that do non-cooperation to industrial strength and can suddenly tip sideways without warning, you will know the trauma of trying to cross roads that do not have dropped kerbs. Sometimes Little G and I have to walk in completely the opposite direction to where we want to go, just to find a dropped kerb so we can cross the road.

Then, I wonder why most shops site their kids department on the first floor, which means locating a lift and engineering the reluctant buggy into it. That's when the lift arrives and isn't out of order. And allowing for there being no more than one other buggy also waiting, because I am to manoeuvering what bricks are to para-gliding.

Also, I wonder why there are so few mother and baby rooms available. Little G and I frequently have to dive into a disabled loo when a quick nappy change is required, only to emerge to face the indignant stare of some poor soul on crutches or in a wheelchair who has been waiting cross-legged for us to finish.

And all this wondering comes on top of the inordinate amount of time spent wondering where my phone, lip crayon, wallet and You must be mad's house keys are, because I have failed to notice that Little G has done her Raider of the Lost Bag act and hidden them somewhere. See what I mean? Not so much Amazon Warrior Princess as Amazed & Worried Pensioner.

10 comments:

Doesn't this bring home how difficult life must be for those in wheelchairs? These buggy years are soon over (though it doesn't feel like it at the time) but I feel for those who have to smile through gritted teeth for years to cope with our reluctance to give them easy access to all the goodies that we enjoy.

There are some shops in St A we just can't go into..as the steps are too high and the assistants won't help us. There are other shops where G is regarded with apprehension in case the runs amok! Some chance as she's strapped into the buggy...

When I was responsible for our son, I was very aware that in those days almost all of the rooms for changing babies (yes, Carol, the ones you just called *mother* and baby rooms) were in ladies' loos. Oh, the fun we had.

It's a brave new world when we take on the grand kids! It makes me wonder how my own children lived to adulthood or how I survived mothering 6. Every generation has it's new "don't ever do" list. I just found out that covering a baby - even with a thin blanket is now taboo! Good luck.

See...this these new-fangled gizmos aren't as good as the ole standard strollers. It's like the wheelie luggage that goes everywhere you don't want to in the airport. Ah well...I'm sure Miss G loves the adventure with Grandma.

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